Loki's Queen
by Juvia Dromma
Summary: Shortly after Loki finds out about his heritage and after his failed attempt at conquering the Earth, a most intriguing woman presents herself to him. A play with dialogue mainly. I am focusing on two specific characters, and the dynamic that exists between them. I matched Loki against an original character to delve deeper into his psyche. I ended really enjoying the result.
1. Chapter 1

Loki's Queen

"I will bow down and offer you my allegiance Lord Loki of Asgard, but I will not kneel by force. Know that when I kneel, I kneel by choice."

His eyes squint in slight distrust, unease stirs in his mind. Willingness and compliance without fear was something he was quite unused to.

"You speak of allegiance, but you close your mind. Not a good way to gain my trust. Who are you, woman?"

"That is for you to find out, my liege, and not for me to say." She circles slowly around him as he simply stands there, his head only turning slightly to keep her in his view. The way her mouth twisted in jest as she spoke arouse Loki's interest.

"You are not from this Earth, no one but a God can close their mind to me." Their gaze locked as she stopped in front of him, he eyes her top to bottom, his mouth upturned only faintly, but the light in his eyes dancing with delight.

"I am not a God. And, I am not of this planet." A slight grin arises in the corner of her lips as she starts to saunter towards Loki.

"And, you are not afraid."

She stood, now, close enough to him she could feel his energy reaching out, a dark, sad, but strong energy. She looks up to stare into his brilliant eyes.

"No." She said casually. "Though I know it is fear you crave."

His eyebrows raise and his smirk widens, as he reaches out and stabs his gloved hand through her abdomen, ice spreading from the wound like an infection. "Do not speak to me so plainly for I am Loki and deserve to be feared. Do you not think so?" He ends with a chuckle.

She let out a slight sigh, and slumps forward. Reaching down, she grips and slowly pulls out his hand, blood dripping to the ground. But, before his eyes her wound closes.

"Oh look, now you've made a mess. Do not underestimate me Loki, as you do with all others." Her eyes shine dangerously.

"What are you?" He murmurs, his gaze wavering restively.

"Loki, look at you. Look at your actions, your failures, hear your words from someone else's view, and tell me… what is it you see?"

Veering from her question, he responds spitefully, "Why do you block me from your mind, you expect me to trust you, but you keep yourself shut. It's quite suspicious you know."

Suddenly, he bends over groaning, his hands gripping the sides of his head as she telepathically screams forth, 'STOP WITH THE QUESTIONS LOKI!'

"And, answer mine." Her voice softens as she raises a hand to his soft cheek, "It's important. I promise you."

Swiping her touch away, he straightens rigidly. His thin lips sealed shut, and, finally, with a sneer he replies, "I answer to no one, as I am a rightful King and God. So, I insist you kneel before me now."

Remaining upright, she replies, "A king of whom, exactly? I close you off, Lord Loki, because I don't want you to answer with my words, my assumptions. I do not wish for you to sneak about in the corners of my mind to find a slight darkness or a small doubt and expand it, mold it to suit your will; to affirm your own qualms. I will not allow you to draw from _my_ mind fuel for _your_ anger."

She pauses and looks directly into his eyes once more, "I want to hear your thoughts, without any influence but of what already lies within."

"Couldn't you delve yourself into my reason, then? If you are so strong." He retorts with distaste heavy on his tongue.

"Don't belittle yourself; you would block me if I tried… as you have the right. No… as I said, I want to hear your thoughts aloud. But, I see now that your pride will not allow you to see yourself truly. You grow angry at my words, I know, but let me show you what I see."

Reaching out a hand, she places her fingers gently against his temple. Slowly at first, but gaining speed she starts to pour visions and analysis from her mind into his. Backing away panting, his eyes wild and questioning, he watches her struggle to regain her composure, noting to himself how she appeared much wearier and less collected than before. But, still, he does not strike. _What would be the fun in that?_ He thinks to himself.

"Forgive me" She sputters, "it is difficult to stream. If I don't keep it ordered and controlled, it could overwhelm even the strongest mind." Straightening as she recovers, she persists, "But now, at least, do you see, Loki, the mistakes that you've made?"

He stands shakily, leaning away from her only slightly, watching her like a cornered animal, but for once he is silent, staring hard as he evaluates this strange woman that stands before him.

"It would be foolish not to learn from them, just as it's foolish not to learn from your opponents, however weak they may be. Fear can only take you so far. If others see you fail over and over again, they will eventually pity you, and you will lose all power completely."

"What would I have to learn from these overgrown apes? They are but cattle. It is in their nature to be herded." He utters darkly.

"And, are you a sheep herder, then, dear Loki?" Her tone even, "Is that your purpose?" She raises her brow in amusement.

"Of course not" He spits, but after a pause, his smile slides ever broadly across his narrow face. "But, a wolf finds sport in making the wooly beast bleat." He pauses, a look of disgust spreading across his face, "My brother so does love chasing them himself, but in another manner entirely," he sneers. He throws up a hand casually, "I am sure you are aware of Thor, he's not very discreet."

"Oh yes, and you are the master of subtlety, yourself."

"Actually, I am. I just like to make a show of it." His satisfactory grin becomes so bright, a slight rose bleeds upon his cheek. An unsettling contrast to how the icy blue in his eyes swiftly sharpens.

"This brother of yours, what is he to you?"

He scoffs, "He's a large, stupid brute. Nothing more." But, a defeating sadness flashes his eyes, "I was always just a tool to him, using our differences to shine light on his accomplishments."

Sneering, she counters exasperatedly, "Forget him! Forget him, Loki. One should not need approval or appraisal of others, especially those beneath them, to know their divine rights, to know their own power. Why do you need these so-called 'sheep' to prove to you your own strength?" After a recess she continues with care. "Don't deceive yourself. You are a frost giant, Loki. You are _not_ of Asgard. You will never be of Asgard. Don't you see, as a child, you envisioned you lived in your brother's shadow, not because of your imagined slights, but because you knew in your heart that you were not of his family. You desire the thrown because you wish to be acknowledged as one of the Shining People. You desire this world to prove to your brother your value as one of _his _people. And, finally…" she falters, "finally, Loki, you fear the idea of freedom, because freedom of your pain seems so distant and inaccessible; it is easier to fall to hate and trickery, then to face what you are. But, what is so wrong with what you are, my Lord, when it has given you so much."

"I may be a descendant of monsters, but that changes nothing. I am of Asgard. I am a king, and you _do not _know me, woman. Do not pretend to." He said piercingly.

"A king of what, I ask again. A strong ruler guides those who are strong, and yet you strive to be a King of sheep. A God to the weak." She steps up to him, so close he could feel her light breaths against his neck. "You have power, Loki." She whispers. "Why strive to rule this world, when you could be a King of Gods." An elated luminosity overcame her air.

Taking a deep breath, she endearingly carries on, "I do not wish to harm you nor disrespect you. I only say what I must. I am simply offering you my service. Do you not accept?"

Gaining poise, he turns to her, "Answer me this at least; what benefits you of our allegiance? Ease me of my suspicion." His broad shoulders square off dominantly, his face falling in a guise of curious quip.

She exhales softly and relaxes her shoulders. "I have been on this planet a long, long time. Years ago, I began to meddle in the affairs of its people out of boredom. It was pleasing for a while, until one day, out of the sky, low and behold, Gods appeared. How could I simply just stand by? What a wonderful gift, I thought. So, I kept my distance and assessed these Gods, until I finally knew what I must do. And, that is why I am here." She snickers, "How are your suspicions fairing now? Are they pleased?"

A smile curling upon his red lips, his eyes shimmering as he looks down at her for the first time without doubt, he whispers, "I think I am starting to understand you after all."

Her smile widens as her hand reaches for the soft of his neck. "I certainly look forward to our future dealings, my Lord Loki. You do so intrigue me."

"Oh? Do I?" He merely looks down at her, disregarding her corporeal intrusion, one shadowed brow raised in curiosity.

Coming closer, their faces nearly touching, she breathes out, "Do you ever." Raising herself up, she touches her lips to his.

_Well, isn't this new, _he muses. Unsure of her advances, he hesitates only slightly, pulling back for but a moment, staring down into her upturned face. "A coalition, that is what you want, then?" A wicked smirk grows on her face, oddly perplexing him. Her fingers entwine in the waves of his ebony hair as her glare bit into his heart. Tilting her chin upward, her full lips loosen in invitation. Finally, his incitement overcomes him as he leans forward succumbing to her tempt. An aggression begins to burn within him, but instead of releasing it, he suppresses it just under his skin, refusing to lose control completely. But, her lips remain teasingly soft, enticing him farther. It isn't long before he parts his lips, letting her in, their breath becoming heavier. Loki could not hold back any longer. A fluttering thought sprang to his mind, _oh, this is new_, _and…I rather like it._

His hands grip her hips drawing her deeper into the embrace, and holds her there tightly against his slender, firm body. Their pact befalling finality as his mouth slides down her cheek and farther down to grace where he had roughly bared her shoulder. Sighing and leaning into him, her hands reach under his cloak to grasp his long, lean back even as she hides a twisted smile. Pressing against her, she felt a stiff stirring in Loki. Her eyes flickers in delightful mischief while she thinks to herself, "I have you now Loki, son of Trolls."


	2. Chapter 2

"I still don't trust you." He states halfway smiling while he straightens out his disheveled apparel.

"It goes without saying." She pulls her sleeve back upon her shoulder, and stares down to smooth out her cloak. Looking up, she notices that he has stepped farther away from her, watching her apprehensively. He witnessed the shivers run up her spine, the way her body swayed and her vision clouded as she had quietly peered up and made contact; his nose flares when his chest momentarily tightens while remembering the taste of her kiss. Turning away from her, poise in his steps as he walks off silently, he thinks to himself, _silly little things…women. But, I suppose she might come of use. _Stopping, he spins around slowly to see her still standing there observing him, a curiosity in her steady gaze.

"You still have not told me who you are."

A sad smile grows upon her expression, "It is difficult to say, my Lord."

Impatience grows in his tone; he puts his hand to his chest, and declares "I am Loki. See, that isn't so complicated, is it? Your turn," his arm sweeping out towards her. But, her lips tighten, the gloom in her eyes growing. "Here, how about you just finish my sentence then. One word, that's all that's required," he speaks contemptuously and continues in a mocking tone, "My King, who is most handsome and fearsome indeed, I am called…" He gestures his hand towards her once more.

Impatience flashes across her features as she strides forward, her voice deep and menacing as she replies, "I have no name, Loki. Do not ridicule me."

His face creases in skepticism, "No name? Do Explain."

She sighs impatiently, "I am not from this planet, or any of the others in the nine realms. Where I am from, you come to know another by a consented telepathic connection. It's a feeling of identity. And, once someone has let you in their mind, a name is decided based off of their individual understanding. One person has many names, one for each representation of the insight for every person they have let in. The more you trust someone, the more understanding they gain about you, and the name changes."

His brows rise, "Is that so?" He steps closer, a grin growing as he speaks, "Then let me in." His leer spread broadly. She stands there looking at him severely, "Please?" He asks playfully.

She swallows hard and her shoulders relax as she closes her eyes. He stands there for a moment perplexed about how exactly something like this is accomplished. Finally, he pushes his thoughts forward, a specific question in mind… _what are you after… _"You are not asking the correct question." She exclaims abruptly, "You must open your mind to the point of comfort based off the level of trust you have for me; my mind is open just the same. When you come in after having prepared your thoughts, you will find the answer you seek." She finishes quietly.

"But, I don't trus.."

Opening her eyes, "You asked me who I was; I told you that it was for you to find out and not for me to say. This is what I meant."

She starts to veer away, but he reaches out and grabs her arm. She turns her head back to glimpse at him, and sees that his eyes have closed. Immediately, she senses him inside her mind. He hits against a few shut doors, but takes in the information that she is willing to share with him. Finally opening his eyes, his manner much less suspicious, he lets go of her arm. He faces away, saunters off and wearily sits down, staring off into the distance, a little off put by the intimacy of the exchange.

"Well, then. Do you have a name?" She says, her voice on the verge of meekness. Glancing over, he notices the cringe in her stance, her arms folded tightly in front of her chest. The familiarity of the act made her restive as well.

His attention returns to the horizon, and after a moment, he utters uneasily, "Eira."

_Comfortably cold, biting but soft…serene like sorrow but angry as a storm…how can a mind feel like anything, especially that? How can it amount to one intricate word? _He thinks to himself, gazing ahead impassively. His jaw tightens, but otherwise barely taking heed, as she leisurely rests alongside him.

After some time she speaks, "You will be imprisoned soon, you know this. You have already made vast oversights in this battle. While the heroes of this world clean up the remaining mess you have made in this city, you have been granted a few moments of peace, but they will return shortly. There is nothing I can do to stop this."

"Oh my, you are proving to be so helpful already. I'm certainly glad to have you around." He states, guile mixed with slight despair in his tone.

"It is a necessary lesson."

"Indeed." He replies sardonically while wiping dirt from his cheek. "What a blessed lesson."

She laughed unhappily, "Don't be so down. You're the God of Mischief after all, aren't you?"

"A God of Mischief, am I really known as that?"

"After all this? You are now."

He takes in a deep breath. "Very well. I suppose I will be seeing you again?" He asked casually.

She leans over and kisses his jaw just under his ear and whispers, "Undeniably." After a pause she continues, "I must be going."

"Then go." He retorts bluntly. "Are you expecting anything more from me?"

"No. Not currently." She stood, wiping the debris from her coat.

There was a sudden crash nearby as Loki's enemies landed on Stark's outside balcony. He glances over to see her gently disappear as she strolls off. Crawling to the next step, pulling himself up with his arms, he tiredly glowers up and finds the group standing over him, the archer pointing an arrow directly aligned to pierce his eye. Ignoring the threat he bears his interest away, and offhandedly announces "If it's all the same to you, I'll have that drink now."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"You will remain here until the end of your days." The sentry's rumbling voice announces, "I hope it was worth it, frost-runt." He finishes with a sneer on his face.

Loki thoroughly observes him through squinted eyes for a moment before turning around to examine his cell. _Laugh all you want now, you'll be screaming for the rest of your days when I get out of here. _Inhaling slowly, an unsettling despair growing his chest, his fingers brush the embroidered arm of one of the three chairs in the room. He notes the books and the quality of the fabrics decorating the bed. _Frigga has gone through much to make this so. _His vision fills with sorrow as he thinks of her, the woman he still considers mother despite everything. _And, I shall never see her again._ Sitting wearily down, Loki's gaze turns to the guard who remains faced away standing watch. A barely discernible smile twitches upon his features as a roguish notion comes to mind. Lashing out his thoughts, he creates a form across the prison hall.

The guard immediately responds, his back straightening, his brow sweating. "Aesa? Is that… no… it can't be…."

The illusionary woman creeps ever closer to him, her golden hair sliding off her shoulder as she moves, "My love… of course it is me…"

Reaching out his hand, he whispers, "But, how… This can't be..." Pausing before letting his hand touch her cheek, understanding darkens his frown, "wait…this must be a trick…" Immediately the woman's flesh ages, grays, and begins to sag off her bones. A putrid smell seeps out from her rot and lingers in the air. Struck in shock, the guard begins to shriek.

Finally the figment crumples to the floor, her crisp finger pointing in accusation before the sentry collapses to the ground next to her, his head in his hands. As Loki starts to laugh, the man turns towards him, noting his confident stance, his hands held behind his back. "You…you did this?"

Loki's eyebrow rises as he swipes his hand through the air, diminishing the farce. "If I am going to be here until the end of my days, as you say, I might as well make it worthwhile." The guard sputters peering into his bitter glare, his blood freezing as he stares at the twist in his grin.

"Úbeinn?" Another enters the chamber and rushes to the fallen man. "Úbeinn, what ails you?"

Raising a trembling finger he accuses the prisoner. The new guard stands cautiously, studying his once-prince in disbelief. Loki glances back carefully, evaluating him as he helps his comrade up and leads him away, a new sentinel uneasily taking post shortly after.

"Well done. I'm glad, at least, that you are making the most of your predicament."

Loki spins around and nearly falters as he discovers Eira seated comfortably. He murmurs her name almost to himself, but as he begins to stride guardedly over to her, he realizes, "You're not really here."

"Not entirely. Mostly though." She stood up grinning proudly and reaches out, grips his arm, and pulls him to her. Glimpsing up at him, she utters, "I can still do this" and leans forward, but before her lips could meet his, he pushes her away.

"How are you doing this? You're just a mere projection."

"You've had contact while you were a projection before, it shouldn't surprise you so much."

"Yes, but the contact broke the apparition. How do you keep it so steady?" His appraisal now full of curiosity.

Her smile eases, "Practice and aptitude. Want to try it out for yourself?"

"Your knowledge is enough to make me weary, explain to me how you have come to learn it?"

"My planet, my people, we have very similar abilities to that of the creatures of Jotunheim."

_"_And, how have you come to this place?"

"It wasn't too difficult to find you, since we shared thoughts previously."

"You're tracking me?" His semblance shines dangerously.

"It goes both ways, my whereabouts shall always be known to you if you search."

"I assume you are using that connection to strengthen your projection, to give it more solidity."

"Very good! I'm quite impressed. But, that isn't the only way to give a packing punch to your illusions. Most others don't have the psychic strength you and I have; all you have to do is creep into their thoughts and plant the belief. The mind is a powerful thing."

"Let us take a walk. I'm sure you'd like to see more of Asgard." He extends his hand, his expression gleaming.

"Finally realizing my value, are you?" She places her hand into his.

"Oh, I was just growing bored of these walls already. You sparked an idea, that's all. The cage I'm in prevents me from projecting my form outwards, but I can still create illusions." As he speaks, the walls around them melt away to reveal a gnarled tree centered by a lush garden. He regards her carefully as her expression reveals enchantment, her eyes wide as they drink in the sights of buds so heavy the stems bow down in seeming revere as they begin to move through the flora with composed steps.

"It was rumored that when I was a child Odin became so irate with me that he transformed me into a tree, of which I wouldn't be released from until someone shed a tear for me."

"Ever a nuisance for those who surround you, I see."

"I've never been able to resist a bit of fun."

"Of course he didn't actually turn you into a tree."

"Indeed not. But, it was still believed to be truth. Citizens would come to this garden daily to visit this tree, and they would merely laugh. Odin knew I would come out of curiosity to monitor the results of his game. Days past and all anyone ever did was cackle at my misfortune. I suppose he meant to teach me a lesson of it."

"Did he not?"

"A lesson I learned, though not the one intended. One day I woke early to approach the tree myself; I climbed up and hid in its branches, and when the civilians came to the tree on that day, each and every one of them wept. I witnessed them all come, tears reddening their eyes, and I reveled in delight for hours until, eventually, Odin appeared upon realizing the situation." Positioned now under the tree, he animates the story as he continues, "He marched right up to the tree, reached out his giant hand and yanked me from the branches, anger shaking the ground around him. But, I could only smile. He said unto me, 'What is the meaning of this?' And, I replied, 'If they refuse to empathize, then what is left but to solve my dilemma by force?" He dragged me inside and left me with Frigga for weeks, saying that I needed a woman's humility to teach me of my error." They commence their saunter along the pathways once more.

"And, how did you accomplish such a task then, getting them all to cry? Mind trickery?" She banters.

His leer broadens as he stops in his gait, turning to her he answered, "Onion powder."

Her laugh bursts forth, filling the garden with delightful sound.

"Though, I have learned more subtle means of accomplishing such tasks since then. Techniques more along the lines of, what did you call it? Mind trickery?" The scene around them swiftly dissolves away to expose a shoreline with gray, rocky sand spreading immensely out to either side of them. Loki sits down leisurely, his eyes losing their light as he idly watches the likewise gray ocean lapping up to the coast. Eira places herself next to him remaining silent. "They never understood, and I equally never truly understood them. And, now here I am, imprisoned because of it."

"You seem abnormally unguarded with me today."

"What harm can befall upon me now?" Without taking his sight from the water, he reaches out and pushes her over, her projection flickering only slightly as she tumbles aside, "You are currently just a projection inside of an illusion. Besides, you are unrelenting, so as long as you persist unthreateningly; I suppose I must simply accept your presence."

"Quite so." She says as she rising back up, regarding him with a playful gleam in her air. Though he does not turn to perceive her, she notices a minor upturn in the corner of his mouth hinting at amusement. Continuing to observe him, she notes the wind blowing strands of his hair around his face. "While this place remains a sheer daydream, the breeze still has normal influence. You are allowing it to be so. How delightful…the dark king enjoys the sea's whisper." She remarks, her truthful words garnished with jest.

"Must you be so horribly poetic?" He inquires dimly. Without warning, the seascape vanishes around them, reality inserting itself over illusion as the cell returns. Sighing, he walks over to the bed and despairingly lies down, staring steadily up at the ceiling. "I don't care if I ever feel the airstream again, as long as I get out of this chamber."

"You will, eventually. You are too significant to be abandoned here to rot. You'll see." She rests at his bedside, looking down at him.

His eyes roll over to peer at her. "Stop being so hopeful, will you? You're ruining my mood." He ends with a teasing flash in his glare.

Leaning over his dreary expression, she lightly places her lips against his. "Stop being so dismal, will you? You're ruining my mood." But, he hardly responds to her touch.

"Why do you do that?" He asks, her face still hovering over his.

"I'm going to need a little more than that."

"From the start you have been overly familiar with me."

Sitting back against the opposite end of the bed, down by his feet, she continues to hold his attention. "You ask that now? You certainly are in an unpromising sort of disposition. Very well, I will play along. You are an alluring sort of man. You are not so aware of this yourself because of the women you have been surrounded by your entire life. They do not see what I see. They want a warrior, wits matter not. Your intelligence is intriguing. I suppose I have been out of practice with customs, but to be honest, I don't heed customs even if I am in practice. I may play with words, but I am rather blunt about my behavior when I want to be. I spend so much time dancing with chimera; I prefer my important interactions to illustrate reality. If anyone disagrees, then they will surely make it obvious, so I do not usually bother with worrying about stepping on anyone's toes."

"Do you have much of those, important interactions?" He says with his clouded vision back upon the ceiling.

She lets out a quiet chuckle, "Not particularly. As I said I am out of practice."

"I have to oppose that statement based off of our previous exchanges." He pauses, "How long has it been? I trust you when you say that it has been awhile, there is a certain amount of desperation in the way you throw yourself at me in attempt to gain my trust."

She swallows hard, her jaw line dancing with tension, her back stiffening. "Is that how you classify me then?"

"'If anyone disagrees, then they will surely make it obvious.' I believe that is what you said, did you not? Not that I am particularly arguing, you may toss yourself at me all you wish, just know it will not gain you my loyalty. I have been placed against much in my life; it will take more than a woman's charm to mollify me of my suspicions."

"You misunderstand me." She whispers before continuing with a calm sharpness in her tone, "It is not desperation in my manner, as it is easiest for you to grasp, it is anticipation. I recognize your potential as sure as I distinguish the reality of this room against your pretty illusions. You simply define your capabilities as a desire, a vengeance, a dream. So where _you_ have desperation, I have fervor. I do not disrespect myself so much to throw myself at anyone to gain an end as frivolous as trust."

He seats himself up slowly. "So with that said, let us go back to our first meeting, shall we? You did indeed use your womanly lure for a precise purpose, even if it wasn't as trifling as trust. "

Her countenance steady, she replies, an incisive simper worn, "Perhaps you are correct."

"You needed to know how to find me; I assume that is when you established the required connection, since you knew I would not willingly allow you to construct that link."

She remains silent, her gaze resolute.

"Your silence defeats you." He pauses and leans forward studying her, satisfaction in his manner. Quickly sitting back, his voice surprisingly bright, he carries on. "Good job. It worked."

"I now comprehend how much you dread any sense of respite from your loneliness. You can possess so much, Loki, but first you must triumph over your own temperament." Her words hold an acrimonious tone.

He smiles serenely, sits up and leans over towards her once more. Carefully placing his finger under her chin for a moment to level her view with his before dropping his hand, he responds, "Oh…did I cause you distress? Well, I must admit at least, I am quite taken with your clever speeches. You use a lot of words, but you conjure them quickly and use them wisely. You are brash at times but also elegant with them, and you seem to always speak honestly. I'll give you that. I am not so forth giving with what I say. After all, it was you who came to me; it is you who desires to gain my trust. So knowing this, your candid technique could be perceived as just the best way to go about doing so. Currently, I see it as just that, a tool you are using to gain an end. I still don't trust your intentions. So, until such time comes where you can give me more than words and tender kisses, I will be weary of whatever it is you utter, and I will say what I need to say to get the information I want from you. I'm sure you can understand that."

"You may be foolish with certain affairs, but with at least, with this matter, you are not. And, until such time comes, I will continue to bestow upon you my words and gentle kisses." She breaks, a curious smirk on her face, "You say you don't trust my intentions, but you once said that you were beginning to understand me. Has this changed?"

"My original assumption has been cast aside, as you are too cunning to amount to a mere mewling quim, crying out because she is alone in this world and thus frantically attempting to gain an ally. Though, I do know with certainty that you believe you see yourself in me, which is why you are drawn to me. I remain wary of you and your intent, because you are indeed like me, and I know better than anyone what I am capable of." Withholding a final thought from being shown upon his features, he veers away from her, lying down once more, his hands tucked behind his head.

Taking in all that he has said, she takes a deep breath. "You are absolutely devastating. I must admit, I am no longer having any fun at all." Standing up and straightening her skirts, she turned her regard towards him for a final time. "I do enjoy our little talks though."

"Until next time, then?" He asks lazily.

"Yes. Until then. Goodbye, Loki." And, suddenly, she was gone.

Sitting up, he considers his cell, now suddenly too quiet and dull. His jaw clenching, he distractedly picks up a book and flips through it mindlessly. He made a point to make her believe that she had nothing to offer him, and he had actually believed it himself, until she was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_Was her deliberate and abrupt departure a ruse to cause this disconcerting silence?_ Rubbing his brow he continues to ponder. _I cannot possibly keep this up, this consistent concern over her meaning, playing this game; it will only leave me unfocused. Whether she had intended this or not, it would be unwise to ignore the reaction she elicits in me. _

The days have been long since she had last left him. He spent those vacant weeks impatiently fretting about, mulling over the tomes that Frigga kept sending his way, and watching the other prisoners in hopes of learning anything from them, but nothing peaked his interest much.

On one such day, he paces in his cell, the boredom of confinement eating at his mind. _Perhaps I shall go insane, and on such day, this city will certainly burn. _With his thoughts brooding, he turns around to begin another anxious lap to find Frigga patiently standing in her motherly way. Sighing, he brusquely sits down and acknowledges her, "Do you plan on leaving me to rot here with nothing but these ceaseless piles of books?"

"You underestimate how difficult it is for me to allocate even _that_ for you, my son. Even now, my presence here has been highly forbidden. I can only appear to you secretly in this form, and not for long."

"Why take such a risk?" He retorts, his sight turned away from her.

Frigga remains silent, watching Loki calmly with a sad smile adorning her expression.

He rolls his eyes impetuously, and turns his attentions over to witness shuffling captives being herded into a cell. With less edge to his words, he dismally remarks, "Odin continues to bring me new friends. How thoughtful."

"You are wounded, but it would be wise not to sulk, my son. After all, it was your own endeavors that placed you in confinement. I wish there were more I could do for you, but the decree is final."

"And, yet you are here despite Odin's orders."

"Your father…"

Loki rises swiftly, standing dominantly over Frigga. "He is _not_ my father…this you know very well. Tell me, why are you so keen to ignore his demand now, and not when he instructed you to make sure the truth of my heritage remain unrevealed to me? Stop fretting over me as if you were my mother."

"Do you truly believe that I am not? Look at me again, and tell me directly that you do not feel the bond linking mother and son between you and I." She challenges.

His eyes meet hers as they have many times before. _Whenever cast aside as a child, she was always there to soothe me, and here she stands once more with that same look._ Immediately, his air changes. Lowering his gaze, shoulders relaxing, he steps forward to embrace her, but as his hands touch hers, her image slowly starts to fade. Just before the apparition disappeared entirely, he whispers solemnly, "Goodbye mother."

After a few moments of deafening silence, anger fiercely rises up in Loki. His movements frantic, he reaches for his hair and pulls while letting out a grieving roar. Collapsing into a standing crouch, he gradually regains his composure._'My whereabouts shall always be known to you if you search.' _Her words suddenly filled his mind. _Eira…_ Focusing his thoughts, he reaches out for her consciousness_; I just need a distraction, a break to this unending boredom._ After a short time, his eyes open to reveal question dancing within their gleam. _She's here… She's in Asgard._

Accessing her presence once more he observes her walking alongside Fandral, smiling modestly as he stares down at her presumptuously. Looking through the viewpoint of her companion, Loki notices the mischievous upturn in the corner of her mouth. _What are you doing?_ Intrigue befalls him quickly, his heart quickening as he forcefully keeps his veneer composed. He continues to examine the situation.

Fandral begins to reach out to pull her closer, but she slyly shies away. Turning to him in departure, she falters and peers deeper into his eyes. Loki laughed in his cell as he perceived recognition in them. Touching her hand to Fendral's cheek, she leans closer to whisper. "Well hello, there."

"Hello? My dear, I thought you to depart?" Fandral croons.

"Yes, you are quite right. My thoughts simply became distracted. You reminded me of someone else for a moment. That's all. Farewell and thank you for your conversation, you were very… helpful."

"It's not often a visitor comes to Asgard, especially one as exquisite as you. I was happy to educate you on its customs."

She smiles tightly, with pity strewn in, and a slight disgust ingrained throughout. Nodding slightly, she turns and saunters off.

_Will you be coming to visit me, then?_ Loki projected playfully and almost endearingly._ Now that you are done brooding._

_You truly do keep your output constantly capricious, don't you?_

_Best to keep people guessing._

_Even yourself?_

Loki chuckling at her response moves to a chair, pulling out parchment in pretense of reading it._ If not moping, I wonder where you have been, then._

_I've been busy._

_Apparently._

Remaining silent, she continues her walk down a golden cobblestone path following a rushing creek.

_I can't help but to ask how you actually got here. I can't imagine your means were as easy as traveling the bridge._

_No. They were not._

_Keeping your output especially brusque today, are we? Perhaps you need more time to glower. Shall I leave you to continue your little tantrum?_

It is her turn to laugh, which she does quite suddenly as bystanders eye her nervously. _My mind is occupied already, Loki, with important thoughts. I have no time for your diversions._

_Is that so._ He merely states.

_Things are changing in this universe of yours. Not only can I feel it, but certain places have less solidity. They appear to glimmer as if merely a mirage. I walked through a wood, following that energy, to find myself directly in the middle of a bustling city crowd. I continued to search, and I found that there are indeed some locations where not only the space between places are fragile, but the space between worlds has been weakened as well._

_You found one such portal that led you to Asgard?_

_Correct. After delicate studies and extended searching. The effect seems to be strongest in Midgard. The very center. I believe the cause to come from the planetary alignment. The unique forces that surround each world being forced upon each other or rather perhaps lining up perfectly, opening doors that were previously shut. _

_I know what you speak of. Stories were told when I was a child. I haven't thought of it since, but I suppose the time for that indeed approaches again. _

_Something is coming, Loki. Prepare yourself. _Her tone caught between apprehension and anticipation.

Suddenly, she appears in his room and sensing her immediately, he turns around to view her.

"Fandral is quite innovative with his flatteries, is he not? Known as the Golden Tongue amongst the people."

"I prefer a Silver Tongue for, though they revel in illusion, they can also reveal deep truths. A Golden Tongue may keep many a maiden damp, but it slides unpleasantly off me, like honey to the flesh. A steady silver flowing or a sticky golden slopping? I am certainly no buzzing fly wishing to be caught in sweet promise." She chanted poetically, her laugh chiming at the end. "Did you miss me?" She says raising her eyebrow.

_"_I certainly did not." He smirks.

"I told you I was busy."

"Then why are you here?"

"You were being intrusive and insistent. I really had no choice, did I?"

"I suppose then, if had the chance, you would very much dislike your own company."

Sitting down across from him, a serious air overcomes her. "Something is coming. I can feel it in the energy. Something isn't right, Loki. I both fear it and desire it. Surely, you have noticed."

"I have been tense these past few days, but that could very well be solely due to the fact that I've been imprisoned or it could be because the worlds are aligning, or most likely a mixture of both."

"Though, silver tongues can oft be a bit touchy when they don't get their way." She says offhandedly. Suddenly, her projection flickers as her attentions alter, her head turns quickly. "Loki… something has happened", she utters before vanishing.

He heard crashing in the halls above him and very dimly heard screaming, but still he sat patiently while his senses sharpened. He feels it suddenly, a dread and excitement. _Asgard has been attacked._ Looking over swiftly, he responds as one of the cells across the hall shattered open as a large, bestial creature steps forth. The absconder makes his way down the corridor, freeing all the prisoners, as chaotic battle breaks forth amongst them and the guards. But, the monster stops at Loki's cage and regards him heavily. Loki tilts his chin up properly, assuming the position of someone unafraid and nonthreatening, but the slightly crouched positioning in his shoulders give off a feral threat as he paces slowly side to side, staring steadily back at the escaped prisoner. They both inspect each other for a moment before the brute scoffs and walks off.

"You might want to take the stairs to the left" Loki yells out. The prisoner turns back briefly to view Loki smiling deviously after him before taking the stairs to the right.

"Idiot." Loki speaks aloud and turns away from the situation. _Brother should be arriving soon to clean this mess up… how lazy and stupid of Odin… and his precious son… to have let this happen. If I were but free... _With anger again on his brow; he veers off to the back of his room. With his hands shaking and his breath heavy, the desire of battle burns like fire in his eyes and the longing of freedom heavy in his step.

After some time, the scene calms and silence descends, but still no one comes to Loki's cell to provide information. Impatient, he continues his usual pace, stopping every now and then to look out into the hall. Finally, he seats himself, staring at the floor, his fingers writhing in worry. _Why does no one come?_

Another half hour passes before someone eventually addresses his cell. He speaks one sentence in a solemn, timid voice, pauses in respect until Loki displays a quiet nod releasing him to his other duties. Loki stands and walks back slowly and composed even as sorrow caves in his chest. Stopping, the grief filling him, he tenses up, pulling his energy inward, compressing it until no longer possible, and then he releases it. His furniture splays across the room, shattering from the force.

Standing there stolidly, he senses her enter his room, not her image, but her... in the flesh.

Turning to her, his eyes breaking like frozen ice, a angry snarl growing across his fair features as he turns away, flaring debris away from him. She stands there rigid… "Loki…" she whispers. He turns around and slaps her against the cheek, grabbing her with his other arm by the neck, strands of her hair twisted and knotted around his fingers. He raises her against the wall and screams, his lips pulled tight, her ears ringing. She keeps her face still, her eyes sharp. She does not yell, she does not cry. His face softens, his eyes large and vulnerable again, he looks at his hand holding her and notices the anger in them. Letting out a quick, quiet sob, he slowly sets her down, looking down to broken wood on the floor, the torn sheets, and pulls his hands away from her. He bends over, running his hands through his hair once more; they slowly began to grip and pull as his screaming continues, "No! No! You weak, arrogant fools." Standing up he paces, "Let me out! Let me out of here!" But no guards, were they paying attention, could see his tantrum. She hid his true self through a vision. All they would see was Loki sitting facing away, calm, still, deadly.

Finally, once she realizes he will not be recovering soon, she grips him. He is thrown against the wall as she stands with her hands behind her back. He kicks and flails, but he cannot escape her mental bonds. She stands directly in front of him, she lowers him down on his knees so he is eventually forced to look slightly up at her. He regains some composure as she gazes down on him sadly and kneels down, resting her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. She whispers into the soft of his neck, "I am so sorry." Shaking still, his eyes glazed over, his face stolid. He wraps his arms around her numbly, setting his chin on her shoulder, collapsing from his knees against the wall. Situating herself to sit in between his splayed legs, she dares to voice her thoughts, "This is your chance Loki, you know this. He will come."

His voice slightly raspy and nasally, his face soggy and ragged, he drags his gaze up to meet hers, "I know. He comes now."

Tall and brooding, dark and golden Thor's presence drank in the scenery around him as he stood in front of the jail cell. Loki took full control of the mirage, "Brother! Why is it you have come to see me after all this time?"

Thor's voice booming like the cracking thunder, "No more illusions Loki."

His spirit shattered, and the image around him quickly vanished, there he sat, whiter than snow, eyes darkly socketed, his hair loosely hanging and wiry. Clothes torn, bruised and bloody. Still remaining unseen, she watched their interaction carefully. She saw his walls crumble, she saw pity for himself bloom in his eyes. _At last_ she thought to herself _humility. He shows his real emotions every now and then, those who see it ever more weary. They never know what is real and what is not… he uses truth when he knows it will suit him well. _"Did she suffer?" He still had some play in his voice, some last attempt at retaining his prideful facade.

She watched Thor wearily as he spoke with his brother. She noted how time has hardened him, wizened him. _But, he is not the only one who has grown._ _You come to him for help, you assume he is the same man with the same weaknesses, the same talents as before. He is no longer ashamed, he has been humiliated, but he never faltered from his desires. He never said he was wrong, he has his reason, he now has the conviction he hadn't before. You don't trust him, that is obvious, but you shouldn't trust your own strength to defeat him so readily either. _

As Thor thumps out of the room, she peers over at Loki and smiles slightly. The corner of his lips rose into a quiet clever smile, some light returning to his eyes. Pushing the thoughts of his mother aside for another time, an ability he is the master of, he painfully stands up and stands next to her, his fingers gracing the bruises on her neck, brushing back the hair on her shoulder with his other hand as he did so. He looked up in a teasing meekness, "I am sorry about this."

"About what?" She looks down at where he touches her lightly, "This? A mere price to pay to have the privilege of watching a godly fit. Quite an entertaining show." She gleamed.

He pulled her close to him, his eyes burning, a smile spread tight across his face "Is that so? Well, don't pity me…"

"Fear you then?" She interrupted.

He laughed, "No…" He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Yearn for me." He growls. His words cause her grip on his arms to tighten, her breath withdrawing back in. He steps back, "I am getting out. I'm truly getting out."

"And now you are better equipped, not so boisterously boastful." That ever present clever gleam in her eyes.

He lets out a quiet laugh, "I still don't trust you."

She smiles broadly, "Who said you should?"

"Oh?" He pulls her closer and adorns her lips with his entrenched kisses, pausing between his subtle tasting to utter "I suppose…no one ever really did say… that I should." His advance grows hungrier as his hands press harder, roughly ravishing her. "You may have some level of influence on me, woman" he purrs, "but, do not assume for a moment that I have no sway over you."

A guard walks by and stops at Loki's cell, seeing the torn furniture and the raggedy prince pressing a young woman against the back corner of his cell. He watches him kissing her heavily while his hands move enticingly up and down her form, and the sentry becomes slightly aroused as her fingers tighten their grip on his mid back, firmly pushing Loki inside of her. With her mouth opening, a long groan escapes her and her back arches as he begins to passionately move in rhythm, his long pale fingers entangled in the waves of her hair.

Jolting suddenly, the guard shakes his head and continues on, mumbling as he goes, "You sick, sad man", dismissing the scene as just another of Loki's twisted realities.

But, before getting too far, the guard overhears Loki cry out loud enough to make him turn to observe the scene once more. What he hears makes him second guess his previous conclusion, but the impossibility of the alternative overcomes his second of doubt. Yet, as he walks away from the cell, Loki's words replay in his thoughts, "Sigyn… I name you."


End file.
